


The Cliffs of Delphi: Puzzles

by GreyLiliy



Series: The Cliffs Of Delphi [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evidence is everything. Even if one has the picture on the top of the box, without the right pieces, the puzzle will never fit together. Prowl has only the picture, and the pieces mock him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cliffs of Delphi: Puzzles

Prowl became a Detective Constable to protect the innocent, and to solve the puzzles that criminals left behind after their heinous acts. That the two went hand in hand—solve the puzzle, lock up the crooks to protect the innocent—was a wonderful compromise of motives.

“You look as though something’s troubling you, Constable,” Tarn said, tipping his champagne glass toward Prowl’s own untouched flute. “Something on your mind?”

“Yes, in fact,” Prowl answered, leaning his head up to look the man in the eye. There weren’t many men of Tarn’s stature in the country. In fact, Prowl only knew of two: Tarn, and the Masked Killer. You’d think that would be evidence enough, but alas. “I’m at a dinner party when I should be investigating a crime scene.”

“You don’t trust your staff to handle it?” Tarn said, smiling as he sipped his drink and looked across the room of dignitaries and aristocrats. He swirled the drink around in the cup. “Or is it something so important you want to be personally involved.”

“The second, since I trust my staff with my life,” Prowl said. He sucked in a breath, and released it slowly as he watched Ratchet laugh, face flushed with one too many drinks. He’d have to escort the man out later, it would seem. “Our dear Masked Killer struck again last night, and I find investigating a fresh crime scene more worthwhile than a cold one.”

“He does keep you busy, doesn’t he?” Tarn asked, sipping his drink. The glass looked like a little girl’s fake toy in his giant hand. A delicate grip for a delicate piece of stemware. Control. Tarn chuckled. “What a bother he must be.”

“I would call his acts more than a bother,” Prowl said. He drew his glass near his mouth and smelled the bitter liquid. Tarn hovered far too close. A monster in human skin, lightly dabbed in powder. “Even when he isn’t working he proves to be a bother.”

“I’m sure a man like that is always working,” Tarn said. He smoothed down his eyebrow with his thumb, and tipped his glass at prowl again. “Much like yourself. Your mind never stops, does it? Always working, tick, tick, tick.”

“It gets the job done.”

“It puts wrinkles on your forehead.”

“Then it’s good I know someone who has practice with make up.” Prowl sipped from his glass, eyes focused across the room at his dear friend Optimus who was already steadying Ratchet with a kind hand. Prowl smiled up at Tarn, and tapped a finger against the side of his forehead. “Surely you could recommend a nice brand to cover it up?”

“A gentleman never tells his beauty secrets, Prowl,” Tarn said, taking a full gulp from his glass, finishing off the drink. “I’m afraid you’ll have to just take a rest and give that young skin of yours a chance to relax.”

“With the Masked Killer breathing down my neck,” Prowl said, “somehow I feel that won’t be happening any time soon.”

“You act as if he’s in the room with you,” Tarn said, chuckling lightly. “Such paranoia, Prowl. Is that anyway for the head of the Masked Killer’s case to behave? What if someone questions your judgement?”

“It’s only paranoia if it’s not true, Tarn,” Prowl turned and looked him straight in the eye. “And who’s to say he isn’t in the room somewhere?

“We’ve never caught him, and nearly all of his attacks have been local. It only stands to reason that if he’s not among the peasants, he may very well be hiding among those of us with fortunes behind our names,” Prowl said. He sipped his drink. “Perhaps our Masked Killer is merely a bored aristocrat, with too much free time on his hands.”

“I’m sure the Masked Killer is many things, Prowl,” Tarn said, placing his empty glass on a passing tray. He watched across the room at Optimus and Ratchet, an odd look in his eye. He smirked and smacked Prowl across the back. “But bored isn’t one of them.”

“Oh? And what evidence to you have to support that theory?” Prowl asked. “How do you know he’s not just out to entertain himself with blood on his hands and in the streets?”

“Bored men get caught,” Tarn said. The giant clapped a hand down on Prowl’s shoulder, and leaned in close. Tarn whispered in his ear, “And you most definitely have not caught him yet, have you, detective?”

“A matter of time,” Prowl said, resisting the shiver that wanted to work its way down his spine. “I promise you that, Tarn.”

“Good,” Tarn said, leaning up and away. He plucked Prowl’s champagne flute from his fingertips and finished it off for him in a swift drink. “I’d hate to be bored, detective.”

Prowl was starting to wonder if he had it wrong. Perhaps he had all the pieces after all, and it was just the final picture he was missing.


End file.
